


Mixed Memories

by SassSexandSmut



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Emotional Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s07e07 Orison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassSexandSmut/pseuds/SassSexandSmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Donnie Pfaster's death, Mulder brings Scully Cheerios and comfort, and he reminds her that she is alive; she is strong; she is loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixed Memories

Scully shrank into the oversized t-shirt, hoping it might swallow her until her body disappeared between the couch cushions. Perhaps, when she woke up, her shell would have replaced itself like snakeskin. She would be stronger; she would not tear again, and she hoped dearly the old scars would disappear. She was on the fence about the tattoo—it reminded her of Jerse, but it also reminded her that life went on after him. Life went on after Pfaster; the wheel kept turning.

Mulder walked in carrying two bowls of cereal. “Hey,” he said, his brow furrowed in concern. He turned on the television and sat down next to her. Scully curled further into herself, wrapping the blanket tighter over her shoulders. She nudged her head under the crook of his arm like a frightened Queequeg used to do during thunderstorms.

Mulder wrapped his arm around her, lifting the blanket as he felt her stiffen. But after a moment, she settled and pulled it back over her. Her hands looked like those of a T-rex, folded against her where she lay in the fetal position. She played with his watch, then his fingers.

“Did you know...” Mulder trailed off uncertainly, desperately clinging to a sense of normalcy. If only he could help her pretend that Pfaster had never happened. He could tell her that Pfaster was dead, that she was okay now, but that didn’t change the horror she’d been through in the last forty-eight hours. The wounds, both physical and psychological, were still raw.

“Did I know what, Mulder?” He looked at the TV but pictured her cocking one eyebrow, her lips somewhere between a pout and a pucker she’d bitten into oblivion.

“Did you know that starlight could be two point five million years old? The stars we see could be long dead by now.”

I’m a scientist, Mulder. Of course I did. That was the answer he expected from Scully. His partner, Scully who had known him for seven years.

“No offense, Mulder, but that’s not exactly comforting right now. I don’t want to think about how the beautiful, bright things we look to for hope and answers are probably all dead.” She bunched her hands into fists, and he heard her sniffle.

At least they had found her alive. At least she hadn’t faded and died like an old, red star. She wasn’t that old yet, but she had seen the tragedies of someone much older. Pfaster had simply broken the bottle; all the pains she’d ever suffered and stored away, the losses she had never allowed herself to mourn, had come spilling out the moment she was cleared to go back to her wrecked home.

“You want this?” He held out the second bowl of cereal. Her glassy eyes finally looked at him directly. She nodded and pushed herself into a sitting position. Mulder noticed she was wearing one of his sleep shirts, making her seem even smaller and more tired.

She took the cereal from him and ate it like she hadn’t had a meal in weeks. It was comforting to be able to eat, to know she was alive and her body still consumed food. It had never tasted so good, and Mulder allowed himself a small smile, watching her.

They'd enjoyed many breakfasts together in their near-decade of partnership, and recently a lot of breakfasts in bed, but for some reason, Mulder still took comfort from sharing a simple meal with his partner. It might have been only the companionship, or it might have been that he kept falling in love with her every day, and she reminded him by simply picking up a fork and knife.

He took small bites and watched Scully intently, taking notes of whether or not she was chewing all of her food or perhaps if she had any idea what he'd actually given her. She seemed to like Cheerios and milk enough in this moment, and he could live with that. Mulder decided that when he believed Scully was up for it, he'd cook her a proper meal and perhaps she'd even forget about the monsters she's faced long enough to enjoy it. And then maybe she'd kiss him over the dinner table like she sometimes did, and maybe he'd pull her into his lap and she would stroke his cheek in the way that made him feel so loved and so validated that neither of them could comprehend. But that was in the future, and he was here now with Scully.

When she had finished, she put the bowl he'd given her onto the coffee table and sat back, looking at the ceiling. A million thoughts ran through her mind, but she couldn't catch or focus on a particular one. All she knew of her own mind in that moment was that she had almost died at the hands of another monster, one of pure evil, and that her partner had witnessed her on the verge of death. Again.

She came out of her thoughts when her partner's hand grazed her arm. Why did everything seem so real and so fuzzy all at once? She pulled her hand away on pure instinct, but upon realizing that it was just Mulder, as it always was, she wished she hadn't. He understood, however, and managed to push it to the back of his mind. He loved her and would probably take anything she threw at him in stride.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to take a shower. I just did my laundry and there is a clean towel and a T-shirt with your name on them," he tried hopefully. She breathed in and out for a second before reaching out and squeezing his hand in thanks and getting up.

Mulder decided that it would be an opportune moment to wash their bowls and get them each a glass of water. He'd just finished pulling on his yellow pajama bottoms and one of his favorite Yankees t-shirts when she exited the shower wrapped in a white towel. Scully's skin was red from her scalding hot shower, but to her partner, she looked as though she'd had cold water splashed on her face. She was unfocused and clearly a bit cagey judging by the way her fists kept clenching and unclenching. She took no notice the first time he approached her with a pair of boxers and a T-shirt he'd bought at a Knicks game 6 or 7 years ago. He set them on the bathroom counter and turned to face her, reaching for one of her hands.

"Don't," she quipped angrily, without venom, but full of discomfort and distaste. When he pulled back his hand and opened his mouth to speak.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear how it's okay that I feel like this! I'm fucking terrified and upset and we both know it. And that's that, Mulder. Nothing you can say will change the fact that I'm here by the skin of my teeth. I let myself get so consumed in everything that I was so god damn careless and Pfaster got the drop on—"

She felt herself being pulled towards him by her hands and tried to step away, but he gathered her against his chest before she could say another word. She hadn't realized she was sobbing until Mulder was wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I don't understand," she said through a hard sob and a gasp, "How I could let myself get so distracted?"

"Dana..." he tried soothing, but switched to her usual name when he felt her flinch in his arms. "Scully," he whispered, rubbing her back in a soothing motion. She didn't know if she could handle being treated delicately, and she began to push away and pound on his chest with her now clenched fist. He only held her tighter. She eventually gave in and let him rock and hold her for a few minutes before more delicately pulling back and looking into his eyes. There was nothing to see but the truth. This man would never lie to her.

He kissed her softly and caressed her cheek.

"Scully," He whispered like a prayer, "I'll never see you as anything less than what you deserve. You're a talented investigator. You're brave and pragmatic, and I could never ask you to be anybody else. None of what's just happened changes any of that."

He kissed her a second time after he finished his little speech before whispering, "let me show you, Scully."

She pulled back from him again, “Mulder, I’m not in the mood…” He could tell from the water gathering in her eyes that she just needed to be held right now. He had plenty of time to show her what she meant to him later. Because when he did show her, he intended to worship every inch of her body; he needed her to be receptive of his love and right now, she was too emotionally raw to take in or understand any more feelings.

“Alright, Scully,” he knew the sound of her name coming from his lips was slowly easing the pain. “Let’s just lay down. Let me hold you, if anything.” He needed to be close to her for his own comfort, and for hers, but right now was only about what she needed. He helped her pull on the shirt and boxers, seeing she was having a difficult time gathering her bearings.

Scully stayed put in the doorway connecting the bathroom to the bedroom, waiting for Mulder to enter first, checking for monsters hiding under the bed. Once the silent search was clear, she stood at the side of the bed with her breath caught in her throat. The crime scene guys had cleaned up the mess Pfaster had made but she still felt the shift of good and evil in the room. Mulder would have a field day if she ever admitted to him that she felt spirits, but she could. She looked straight ahead to the corner of her room, the bookshelf she had thrown on him slightly out of place and the books put back in the wrong order. She looked to the right, seeing the dresser with an empty mirror frame not staring back at her. She could still feel his hands on her as he threw her against it, shattering the mirror the way her faith had shattered when Emily died.

Mulder’s hand on her arm both startled her and brought her back to reality. “Mulder.” Her voice got caught in the back of her throat with the breath that was there earlier. She started tearing up again, hating herself for letting the evil affect her this way. She needed the reassurance only a mother or lover could give. She hadn’t told her mom of the attack yet, wanting to spare her mother the worry until she knew she was past it. With her mother’s affection out of the question, Scully knew her lover could provide the same warmth and goodness she needed.

“Come here, Scully.” Mulder had pulled back the covers, allowing Scully to get in the bed first. She was facing the window, staring at those damned dead stars. Mulder spooned behind her, practically covering her tiny body with his large one. Their feet tangled, and Scully sighed in content, the first positive emotion she had expressed all night. Running his hand softly up and down her arm, Mulder stopped his hand at hers, clasping all three, both of hers and one of his, together in the way only lovers could.

“Thank you.” The words were so soft, Mulder barely heard them being uttered from her lips. If he wasn’t so close, he was certain he would have missed it.

“For what, Scully?” He pressed a kiss to her warm cheek, inhaling the scent of the conditioner lingering in her hair.

“For being here, for taking care of me, for loving me. Lord knows no one else would.” The last sentence was said under her breath, doubt clouding her thoughts. She felt undesirable, dirty from the fact someone as evil as Pfaster would want her so badly when it took someone like Mulder almost seven years to go after her. She tried pulling away from him once the realization popped into her head. Why was Mulder even here? What was it about her that was so appealing to both a monster like Pfaster and a good man like Mulder?

“Hey, hey. Where do you think you’re going?” Mulder pulled her back to him, not letting her go so easily. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now Scully.” He heard the scoff coming before it came. “My work comes second to you, Scully. I’d put you over the truth any day because you— you are my truth.” He kissed her lips, glad she had turned to look in his eyes as he spoke, she could tell he wasn’t lying.

“You’re my truth,” he whispered again before taking her lips in a passionate kiss that not only promised to her that she was his truth but also that he would never stop his pursuit of the truth. He would never stop putting her first; he would never stop looking for her deepest secrets and darkest needs, and he would never stop bringing light into her life.

She turned in his arms, knowing in her heart that Mulder’s goodness was greater than any evil she had ever faced. This time, she prompted the kiss. With both hands placed on either side of his face, she drew the goodness out of him by the lips so it could enter her and mend her broken spirit. “You can show me now.” She spoke softly, not needing to be loud. She needed softness after the hard Pfaster had put upon her. She needed Mulder to show her the good.

Scully and Mulder joined their lips together in mutual love and adoration. Scully's hands moved from Mulder's face to wrap around her lover, pulling them so close together that it was hard to tell which limbs belonged to who. Mulder smiled, kissing Scully more deeply, more passionately, using his hands to caress her face and back, taking in every contour of her body. He felt Scully relax for the first time since Pfaster had escaped; together they were safe.

Desperate as he was to take things further, Mulder hung back, waiting for Scully to take the lead. He needed to make her feel safe, for her to know she was loved and cared for. She was the strongest person Mulder had ever met, but she had been through so much it was no surprise that she had crumbled. If Mulder could take her pain away, he would in a heartbeat, but he knew it was impossible. Instead, he just had to make her feel human.

Scully started to move her lips from Mulder's and began to focus on his neck. She directed Mulder's hands underneath the shirt she was wearing. Unlike their normal passionate sex, Scully needed to take things slow, and part of her was getting almost turned on by Mulder touching her when she was wearing his clothes. She started moving along his strong collarbones, kissing slowly and softly, as Mulder stroked her body and pushed his lips into her slightly damp hair.

"Yellow pants Mulder?" Scully asked, sounding almost like her old self.

He grinned and latched onto her neck, marking her skin with love, instead of cuts and bruises. Pulling back, he pointed out, "you've seen them before Scully. You've never had a problem with them before."

"I've never said anything before; that doesn't mean I've never had a problem."

Mulder laughed. "Would you prefer it if I took them off?"

"Shut up, Mulder." Scully kissed him again, thanking God for bringing them together. She loved Mulder, and she loved being loved by him. If they hadn't met, if she didn't have him... she couldn't bear thinking about it. She ran her hands down his chest to the waistband of his pants and almost felt her heart expand with how much she loved him.

"Mulder," she said, feeling his lips focus on her shoulders and his hands gently caress her breasts. She was ready. "Kiss me."

Mulder smile and kissed her temple, then the tip of her nose, finally re-capturing her lips with his own. Her tongue requested entry, and he granted it wholeheartedly. Scully smiled against his lips. It was so profoundly relieving to know she could kiss him; she could nip at his bottom lip and bump her nose against his. To know that she could move and breathe, that she could do more than receive a kiss of mourning on her skin.

Her fingers brushed against his arm, almost hesitant; Mulder’s hands wrapped around her waist, running over her breasts and the scars on her back as if his callused palms could heal them, and he tugged gently on her shirt—his shirt, that once smelled like him but that he wouldn’t wash after this because now it smelled like Scully.

Her other hand running down the sandpaper stubble on Mulder’s cheek, Scully bunched the t-shirt in her fist and started to pull it over her head. Mulder took the hint, helping her shrug out of the oversized shirt. She didn’t want to talk; they communicated perhaps better in silence and in gestures. She worried a moan might slip out of her mouth, and the sound would somehow make them a spectacle, a scene, rather than warm, broken humans putting themselves back together, replacing shards of self with shards of each other until they became a patchwork quilt of mixed memories.

She drew her lips away from his for a breath. “Mulder,” she whispered, as if the walls were watching them, waiting to pounce and box her in. She found that her voice was still shaking, despite inklings of its old confidence. “Make love to me.”

The words were rare on Scully’s lips. Often, she threw him a sultry smirk and one of them wound up pinned to the nearest structurally secure surface. She would wiggle her eyebrows and her words would be breathy—half-vocabulary, half-moan. They would turn a spark into heat and sometimes the world seemed to spin at twice its speed. 

Now, her voice was soft, lacking its husky sarcasm, but Mulder loved the passion he still found there. Her emotions finally lay raw. It hurt him to see her stripped of barriers, but even with the layers of wit and scientific jargon torn away, he loved the woman before him. As she finally untied the yellow pajamas, Mulder wanted nothing more than to let Scully know that she was alive, she was brave and remarkable, and his spooky heart loved her.

He pressed kisses to her breasts, drawing her close to him as if without his shirt she might freeze to death, right there in the bed. “You sure?”

Scully nodded, fussing clumsily with the tie on the yellow pants she had deemed hideous. “More sure than I was night we barely made it through our motel door.” Her teeth nipped at his neck again, leaving marks that proved they were more than ghosts trapped between worlds until they found the elusive Truth.

He pulled her in for a sweet kiss, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ears, which made her grin. She loved the care he took with her when he was feeling exceptionally tender. Even when Mulder was feeling particularly feral, he always made her feel loved and not as though she was just a warm body in which he could find release. He rolled himself so that she was half under him, not breaking contact with her mouth. His tongue worked hers languidly and his fingers began to play with the waistband of the boxers she had put on before coming to bed, stroking the skin underneath. She gently pushed on his hands so that he would pull the boxers off of her, which he proceeded to do, taking his time to stroke the underside of her thighs and calves as the garment was pulled lower.

He pulled his mouth away from hers to place soft open-mouthed kisses down her neck and chest, using his new position to pull the boxers off of her legs completely. He kissed all the way down one leg and ankle before coming back up to encircle her in his arms and claim her mouth again.

He moved one hand to stroke her hip and thigh lovingly before moving it to the space between her legs. She was wet and ready for him, but he would take his time. The main event could wait until he had fully appreciated her entire body. He would worship her if she would let him. He stroked her outer lips before dipping his index finger inside, making tantalizingly slow strokes. Scully reveled in the feeling of him all around her. One hand stroked her cheek and chin while the other worked her inner walls. She felt so warm and so cherished. She pulled his face firmly to hers to signal him to increase her pressure elsewhere as well. He entered second finger inside, making his strokes more deliberate, and brushed his thumb over her clit. Her hips jumped a little and she moaned quietly. When he broke the kiss again and moved away, she was inclined to cry before she realized his intentions. He moved his body lower to the apex of her thighs, stroking her sides to keep contact and make her feel comfortable. Mulder kissed the inside of her thigh before whispering her name against her skin and taking her with his mouth.

With his tongue tracing her outer lips, caressing them like he did her other lips, he reached a hand up to lace their fingers together. He rested their joined hands on her breastbone, connecting each other to her heart. Normally, Scully would place her other hand in his hair, urging him closer. Instead, she settled for letting it rest on his cheek, smoothing the roughness of his face. Mulder leaned into her hand and brought his free fingers up to enter into her.

“Mulder...” The many places they were connected could be felt everywhere in her body. The warmth from the back of his hand caused Scully’s heart to leap towards it, hoping the heat would meld the muscle back together. That heat circulated through her body, beating in time with the blood being pumped from her heart. The organ brought in deoxygenated blood, cold and blue, pushing it back through her body anew, warm and red. She could feel the heat reaching her toes and fingertips, only to circle back and set fire to her extremities.

More heat came pouring in just as fast as it was pouring out. Mulder’s mouth had finally stopped tracing her outer lips but regretfully continued the same torture on her inner lips. His tongue was so soft against her and his fingers were so gentle in their journey to her sweet spot. Scully could feel the heat approaching that only came with an orgasm; God, he hadn't even neared her clitoris yet. It was rare for Scully to reach orgasm without clitoral stimulation. Mulder’s fingers reached the root of her clitoris, stimulating the nerves there, causing Scully to clench both her hands closed. Mulder’s lips finally latched onto her bud, drawing it into his mouth and sucking the heat in.

Scully’s body radiated so much heat it was almost unbearable to be laying on the flannel sheets. She thrashed around, lifting her body, trying to create a pocket of cool air between her body and the sheets. Although her skin was slick with sweat, she was grateful to be feeling anything at all. The power, gratification, and satisfaction that came from her orgasm was enough to bring her to tears. This wasn't the first time she had cried from overwhelming emotions, but it was the first time it had happened during sex. Mulder had slowed down his ministrations and squeezed her hand in reassurance when he saw her fighting the tears. “Let go,” he whispered, bringing her fingers back to his cheek and holding them there. Her walls crumbled and every emotion she was harboring came pouring out. The strangled cry she released startled Mulder, and he moved to be eye level with her to make sure she would be alright.

When he had made his way up to her face, he saw her eyes shut and a few tears running down her cheeks onto the sheets beneath her. He stroked her soft skin, wiping her tears. They both knew he hadn't hurt her in his journey to bring her pleasure, so he didn't hesitate to tuck her into his body. Scully trembled in Mulder's arms and he did his best to calm her by rubbing his warm hands up and down her back. Her whimpers grew softer and after a few minutes she lifted her head to meet his eyes. He lay still, waiting for an indication that she was ready to continue or stop altogether, which would be uncomfortable for him physically without a doubt, but he didn't mind. She kissed him softly, enjoying how his hands stilled and hugged her closer. When they pulled back, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Scully," he whispered, kissing her cheek, "tell me what you need." In that instant, she knew without a doubt that he loved her. Sure, she'd had inklings before at various instances in their partnership, but looking down at him in this moment, she was absolutely certain. His gaze was attentive and there was nothing in it that betrayed her belief that he would love her in every way he could find. She smiled at him.

"Love me, Mulder," she whispered. 

All he could to in response was pull her in and whisper against her lips, "of course," before kissing her again. He loved kissing Scully. He kissed her every chance he got, if she allowed him. In the office, in the car, in the elevator, in the shower, anywhere, everywhere. It was Mulder's favorite thing to do. Even if it was a small peck, he'd steal a kiss every opportunity he had. Usually, Scully ignored him but smiled when he turned back to his work. She'd never admit she sometimes loved the random pecks more than the passionate kisses.

He maneuvered them so that he sat in the middle of the bed and she sat facing him in his lap. This position was his absolute favorite for making love because he could hold her close, and he knew she would appreciate it tonight. 

He entered her slowly, trying to hold back a moan, but sighing into her mouth nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck and responded to Mulder's soft tongue massaging hers. His thrusts were slow but sure, and she started lifting her hips to meet him. His arms encircled her completely, never letting go, ensuring that he would always be there. When he gave her thigh a gentle squeeze, she moaned into his mouth and came down on him harder. The pace was wonderful and soothing, though they both knew they needed a little more. He placed one hand low around her back to pull her closer while he brought the other to rub circles on her lower belly. He placed soft kisses between her breasts while she leant her head back, savoring his touch.

She whimpered in pleasure when he nipped her soft skin, licking the spot to soothe it, and he brought her mouth back to his. He kissed his way up the side of her face from chin to cheek before whispering to her. While she was normally silent, he was quite vocal, which he knew she enjoyed immensely. Typically he was quite descriptive and she loved how naughty his words sounded, but that would not be the case tonight.

"I love the way you feel Scully. You're so soft and sweet, yet strong and brave. I'm so lucky I get to see all of you, and I never want that to change. You're beautiful and I love the way you make me feel. I love how you feel around me, when I'm inside you. I've never felt anything like this before. I need you to know that. Nobody has ever made me feel the way you do." He punctuated his words with a kiss to her temple. He heard a sniffle and moved to meet her eyes again. She had a small smile on her face and was obviously touched by his words. He could taste her tears when she pulled him into a kiss, stroking his cheeks. He had not stopped his thrusts throughout the duration, and she began to move more insistently against him. He snaked a hand in between them to circle her clit with his thumb, making her softly bite his lip. She moved quickly, needing this final release from everything that had happened in the past few days. He kissed her face and neck when she began to shudder. She moaned softly and he buried his face in her neck, hissing as his orgasm overtook him as well. When they came down, she leant down to kiss him again in thanks.

Mulder's lips gently met hers as he shut his eyes, taking in the feel of her soft, sweaty, warm skin against his body and her gentle, flower petal lips. He would say that she now felt stronger against him than she had before, but that wasn't true. She was always strong against him; even when she appeared weak to others and herself, he knew her deep inner strength. The strength that kept him fighting for justice, for the truth, for her. His truth. 

Slowly, her lips parted from his and she looked down at him. Her eyes warm as a small slow smile coaxed its way through her lips and right into his heart. "Scu-," he started but she gently pressed her finger to his lips silencing them, before pressing achingly beautiful kisses over his eyelids, trailing them down his nose to the tip, before finally removing her finger and granting him a small kiss to the lips before speaking.

"Thank you, Mulder." Her arms snaking their way around his neck while one hand curled into the damp hair at his neck.

Mulder simply shook his head and tucked a loose lock of red hair behind her ear to see her eyes more clearly, before letting his arms find their final resting places back around her hips, pulling her closer so that their noses practically touched. 

"Don't thank me. Thank yourself. You are the strongest woman I know, Dana Scully. Don't ever forget that," he finished, his lips so close that his words flowed straight from his tongue to settle on her lips, as sweet and affirmative as a kiss.

"I love you, Mulder," Scully whispered before carefully trapping their declarations between them with a tender kiss, tangling into each other in every physical and emotional way two people could in the dark of the bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Find our tumblrs at: Allaboutthatgillybox, GilliansBoobs, Maybe-if-it-rains-sleepingbags, MedicalDoctorDana, mypinkandyellowrose, and poeticsandaliens.


End file.
